


where did you go when you left this planet?

by xYourHero



Category: South Park
Genre: Amnesia, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Experienced Tweek, Issues of Sexuality, M/M, Masturbation, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Underage Drinking, non-established relationship, pining Craig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xYourHero/pseuds/xYourHero
Summary: Craig's memory is spotty. Blame it on the meds, he doesn't care.That is, until he realizes that the new kid in South Park may not be so "new" after all.Craig/Tweek





	where did you go when you left this planet?

**Author's Note:**

> hi there sweetheart im celine :) i haven't written in ages but here we go

_Why do people crave attention?_

To Craig Tucker, it was a conspiracy he was blessed enough not to be included in.

He could neither understand nor bring himself to care about anything the kids his age sought out and required.

Things like, surrounding themselves with friends at all times of the day, gossiping, socializing, meeting new people, and making stupid jokes that he never found funny. He despised parties and any kind of social gatherings, really – and then here were some people who found it necessary to be with certain people so they could feel important.

In general, Craig wasn’t a fan of ‘people’. He’d made it clear as day even way back in the fourth grade. If a stranger looked at him? They were getting flipped off. If someone he disliked approached him? Guess what – they got a bird to the face. If a teacher told him that what he was doing was rude, insensible and against the rules, then they were getting graced with middle fingers on each hand up.

His displeasure of people didn’t stop there. Fist fights were a common occurrence ever since childhood. Hell, he _still_ got into scuffles every now and again. Perhaps not as often – and this is likely because when high school began he really stopped _giving a shit_ about anything.

He liked his life the way it was, even if normal people saw it as dull or anti-social. He was a simple person, that is if it included being labeled a cynical, sarcastic asshole and wearing that description proudly for all to see.

However, Craig wasn’t _completely_ alone in this lifecycle revolving around the sun. Clyde and Token were close friends from way back -- just far enough to understand how to put up with him. They actually seemed to enjoy his company and Craig wasn’t going to burn those bridges. After all, they were perhaps the only kids in South Park that he could tolerate and, dare he say, even have good times with.

For the most part, he likes to be alone. He knows he has some good friends to fall back on if something ever goes wrong. Most of the time, he spends his days watching movies, playing video games, adoring and taking care of his guinea pig, and reading about outer space, constellations, planets and NASA exploration. Then there were those basic teen things like watch YouTube videos till the sun comes up, looking at memes, and scrolling through his favorite websites.

Sometimes he’ll go out and just take pictures. If he had to say he had any hobbies, then photography and studying either filmmaking or space would take the slots.

So if you could be at home, doing the things _you_ take interest in without having the burden of entertaining someone, why would you _choose_ to go out and socialize with the shitty people of this town? It was downright draining, irritating and boring to one Craig Tucker.

This pessimistic train of thought all started when he first got that dreaded text from Clyde.

The text that would start it all.

 

**Clyde:** _Dude!! Did u hear there’s a new kid in town???? Damn I hope it’s a girl_

 

The heap of emojis following the words made Craig once again question Clyde’s IQ, but he didn’t say anything back.

_A new person?_

_Terrific. Just fucking fantastic,_ he griped to himself. A new person in South Park signaled chaos. It promised constant buzzing of ‘Have you seen the new family?’, ‘Where did they come from?’, and ‘So-and-so that just moved in is super hot,’ all day, every day for a minimum of the first 72 hours. From _everyone_ in this dead man’s town.

Craig put down his phone and continued playing his video game.

Though even after he pressed ‘resume’, his earlier thought process wandered back.

It was ridiculous how everyone got so damn _excited_ about a new family moving in. You’d think they’d never seen other humans before.

And yet, Craig realized, that was basically the goddamn _truth_.

South Park was just so small and uneventful that everyone in the town knew each other by name. The kids had all gone to school together since kindergarten. A new face was like a Mentos getting dropped into a Coke version of the otherwise quiet little mountain town.

Besides a new student, there was little else to entertain them.

As Craig’s character got roundhouse-kicked in the face, his phone buzzed with a new text, this time from Token.

 

_Heard the new person is kyle’s next door neighbor. Did you see his post?_

 

Craig rolled his eyes. Social media, in general, pissed him off. He couldn’t care less about peoples’ personal lives or their meaningless posts of what they ordered at Buca de Faggoncini or their fancy Harbucks drinks. The fact that Token would ask him such a question baffled his brain.

Sighing, he took a look anyway.

The latest post from Kyle was a totally creeper picture taken from his bedroom window. A moving van was in the driveway of the house next door, while his mom is seen chatting with the presumed parents of the new kid. The only caption was _“heard someone new’s gonna be enrolled at south park high”_ with that dumb pair of eyes emoji.

The comments section was flooded with questions.

 

**its_bebe_bitches:** IS IT A CUTE BOY?!

**wendy.testaburger99:** lol chill, bebe! you shouldn’t scare him off before he’s even stepped foot at school omg

**stan_the_man:** dude, whyre u taking stalker pics of ur new neighbors?

**ohayokenny:** asgdhjsdfgds is she hot

**kyle.mvp.broflovski:** idk bro the parents look kinda familiar

 

There were more comments. Without a second glance, Craig backed out of Instagram. He wasn’t interested in the slightest.

Tossing his phone somewhere on the bed, he pressed Play on his game yet again.

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was a couple days after the rumors had spread like wildfire about South Park newcomers. Besides taking out the trash and getting the mail, Craig hadn’t stepped foot out of his house since hearing about it.

It wasn’t that he was specifically avoiding going out because of it. Rather, he just didn’t have anything to do or anywhere he needed to go.

Don’t take that the wrong way, either. Craig could go a whole week without leaving the house and still be perfectly content. He didn’t mind waking up at noon, eating lunch, and then laying around in bed for the rest of the day. It was like a protective bubble, a safe space for him to enjoy being away from humanity.

It was summer break after all – a sacred time for him to revel in what _he_ appreciated in life.

But there was something bringing him down.

Craig tapped lightly on the cage. “C’mon Twitch, you haven’t ate or drank anything lately…” His eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern for his beloved pet. _He hasn’t touched his medicine… it’s like he knows it’s in the food…,_ he thought to himself.

While it was true he’d had multiple guinea pigs since childhood, he’d never seen one get sick like this. He’d already taken him to the vet but so far, nothing seemed to be helping.

There were other remedies the vet had suggested, however they costed big bucks and his beat-up Red Racer wallet had nothing but a $20 dollar bill inside, _hopefully_.

Now Craig’s family wasn’t the richest. They’d been on welfare for quite some time now, so it wasn’t like his parents were going to help him pay for his guinea pig to get better. They’d never appreciated Twitch, or Brownie, or any of the Stripes ever before.

He needed to use his own money, and he was running low on birthday savings. He knew he couldn’t go broke trying to fix his pet who only had a couple more years left at best. Not when all those new video games were coming out this summer…

Craig stood up, eyeing his poor lethargic friend with a renewed sense of hope. He had the answer – he was going to get a job.

Even one paycheck would suffice. Or two. And shit, if he liked the job he’ll probably end up keeping it.

That night at dinner, Craig brought up the decision to his parents.

Tricia nearly choked on her side dish, “ _Hah_ , you, get a job? And actually have to talk to _customers_ and be nice?!”

Their mother cut in with, “Hush Tricia, I think it’s a great idea!”

“But imagining it is just so funny,” She admitted with a giggle.

From across the table, Craig flipped her off, to which she made a face and mirrored her brother.

Mr. Tucker was elated by his son’s choice. “About time, kiddo! You’ve just barely turned sixteen and you’re already gonna be out job hunting?! I like it!” He took a heaping mouthful of food and garbled out, “Wait till the guys find out. Look at you, makin’ your old man proud!”

Craig groaned at such a positive reaction. His relationship with his father was rather strained and to hear such delight felt awkward and out of place.

“I suggest,” His dad began as he set down his fork, “You go around town looking for Now Hiring signs. Dress up your Sunday best and ask to speak to a manager _, in person_ , not online the way you kids like to do it these days. Make the best first impression, give ‘em the old resume, and hope for the best.”

So there Craig stood the next day, fresh out of the shower, examining himself in the mirror.

His still-wet raven locks were slicked back. _Damn, I need a haircut…_ he thought as he ran his fingers through it. His hair was way too long for summer and definitely too long for a job interview, but he was short enough on cash as it was.

Dressing professionally, to Craig’s dismay, meant no favorite blue hat, and that alone made him feel uncomfortably exposed. In all honesty, he was dreading this.

With a sigh, he opened up a bathroom drawer and fished around for a comb. When he found one, he brushed his hair neatly out of his face to keep the slicked-back look once it dried. Hopefully this counted as a reasonable job-seeking appearance.

He took one last quick glance in the mirror. His average features stared back – an oval-shaped face, newly cleared skin (he used to have an acne issue but to his astonishment, it had recently been fading), and narrow, icy blue eyes.

With his towel around his waist, he searched through his closet for presentable clothes.

Staring back at him were hoodies, jackets, sweatshirts, and button-ups all in varying shades of blue.

_Interview clothes…?_ He repeated to himself as he swished through hangers.

In the end, he’d picked a navy dress shirt that wasn’t too wrinkled for not being worn in eons. Of course, it was a tad short on him due to the growth spurt that caused him to tower in height. His newest pair of jeans and subtle black Nikes finished the look. _This’ll have to do,_ he figured.

With that, he took his practically blank resume and headed out.

 

* * *

 

 

Craig was astounded by how many Now Hiring signs he actually saw at the mall. It seemed as though every three or four stores were looking for help.

_This is for Twitch…,_ he reminded himself as he cruised around the mall to find a fitting match for him _. It’ll all be worth it when it’s done._

Needless to say, Craig _despised_ the mall.

There were about three reasons: he hated being targeted by persistent salespeople, shopping for something in particular was unbearably overwhelming and most of all, he detested that there were always groups of obnoxious teenagers roaming around for _no_ goddamn purpose.

They were loud, they were aggravating; they were dicks. They only came into the mall to hang out with their stupid friends and sadly, Craig knew them most of the time.

Even so, there was always someone who tested him enough to make him go knock out some teeth.

As Craig sauntered by a GameStop, he noticed a Help Wanted sign in their window. He wasn’t too thrilled by this idea but understood that some extra cash was absolutely necessary. _I guess this one could work,_ he concluded.

He hadn’t even stepped inside before a distinctively annoying laugh caught his attention.

_Aw shit_. He’d recognize that dying pig sound anywhere.

His mood instantly soured when he noticed the spawn of Satan himself, Eric fucking Cartman, only a few stores away.

His whole gang was there with him. _Even worse,_ Craig thought with a face-palm.

Luckily, they were a safe enough distance away with their backs turned to him, so chances were he could still escape a confrontation with them – namely Cartman. He just hated the kid so much he didn’t ever want to occupy the same space as him.

As Craig spitefully eyed the group, he noticed something out of the ordinary about them. With casual grace, he stood with his back against the store’s floor-to-ceiling window to discreetly pick them apart.

Unmistakably, there were Stan and Kyle, mentally handcuffed together as usual. In the signature orange parka was Kenny. Gliding around with questionably-achieved confidence was Cartman.

And that was supposed to be _it_ – the childhood quartet of mass destruction that he knew all too well – Cartman, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny.

So, who was that other motherfucker?

A boy with wild blonde hair was walking with them.

(As in, now walking in Craig’s general direction, not that he noticed.)

There was something familiar about him. The closer Craig looked, the less he felt he recognized him, but the second he let his focus shift elsewhere, he couldn’t stop himself from checking again.

His phone suddenly buzzed with a text. _Who the hell is that kid and why do I feel like I know him?_ To distract himself, he opened the new message from Clyde.

 

_bRO OHMYGOD GUESS WHAT I FOUND OUT ABOUT THE NEW KID HOLY S H I T_

 

The new kid.

That’s right, it was the new kid.

“Hey Craig, you ready to get your ass kicked in Call of Duty tonight or what, bitch?!” Cartman taunted as he ambled by, followed by his usual posse and _that person_.

Craig glared back. “Fuck off dude,” Came his auto-piloted response. He tuned out whatever shit came out of Cartman’s mouth afterward.

Now only about ten feet away as they strode past him, Craig caught a better glance of the mind-numbing newcomer.

Their gazes locked.

Ice-blue eyes met striking electric-green irises.

_…I’ve seen you before, I fucking know it._

But the recognition was just the slightest enough to make him doubt himself, especially after the other boy scowled at him and continued on walking with his group.

Craig watched his retreating back as they turned the corner and disappeared.

God, it was worse than when he saw an actor in a movie and remembered them from somewhere but for his life couldn’t recall what from. In that case, all he had to do was look in the credits for the actor’s name, search up their work history and scan for a series that he’d seen. It only took a few minutes.

This wasn’t the same.

A mane of golden blonde hair. Upturned, cat-like green eyes. Soft, warm facial features. Smooth and unblemished skin.

The recollection was obscure. Maybe he was just a face in the crowd at Disneyland years ago that his mind never forgot. Perhaps he was one of his space camp buddies that he never saw again. Or what if he was a brother to one of Tricia’s friends that he’d met once when they were visiting their grandmother in Denver?

None of those guesses felt right.

_This shit is gonna drive me up a fucking wall,_ Craig fumed.

He pulled up his phone and re-read that last text from Clyde.

…Maybe he _was_ a little interested in replying after all, though he loathed to admit it to himself.

Sporadic memories so distant and fuzzy, in the most forgotten corners of his brain, re-played in his mind. They appeared though an amnesiac filter, like ink on wet paper. It felt like the most important details were missing.

_Did_ Craig know him? Or did that boy just… have _that_ kind of face?

Craig looked back down at his phone.

With that, he realized he’d do anything to stop feeling like he’d seen that boy in a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh this is my first time posting on ao3 i'm kinda nervous but i'd love to hear what you thought ; v ;


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